


Never Good Enough

by Crematosis



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Community: avengerkink, Gen, Steve Rogers is a jerk, Team Bonding, Team as Family, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-08 07:10:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1931469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crematosis/pseuds/Crematosis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve has never really liked Tony and doesn't really consider him part of the team. It's up to the rest of the Avengers to figure this out and make Tony feel wanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an Avengerkink prompt. This is not my normal style since I usually write Stony or Steve and Tony friendship stories and this is kind of breaking my heart :(

By most standards, the mission had been successful. The Avengers had managed to capture the villain of the week fairly quickly in a coordinated attack by Clint and Natasha. Tony had claimed his comm had been acting up and he couldn't hear Steve's orders. Which was probably his excuse for charging in instead of staying back to block the villain's escape route.

And Steve might have been willing to overlook the fact that Tony had disobeyed orders because the mission had been successful without his input. But along the way, Tony had narrowly avoided crushing an elderly couple with a light pole he knocked over. And Steve couldn't stand for his team endangering civilians.

Steve cornered him in the kitchen afterward. “What the hell was that out there?” he demanded.

“I don't think I did anything wrong this-”

“You knocked over a light pole, Stark. That was the only collateral damage of the entire fight. So, you officially caused more damage than the villain.”

Tony sighed. “I didn't do it on purpose. I just lost control for a moment. I upgraded the repulsors last night and they're a little stronger than what I'm used to. It won't happen again.”

“Jesus Christ, Stark. Are you telling me you went out there today with untested equipment?”

“I didn't have time to test them. I was going to do it today, but we got-”

“Someone could have been killed because you were careless. This isn't a game, Stark. If you're not focused on the mission, you need to be grounded. Is that understood?”

Tony hunched his shoulders. “It won't happen again.”

Right. That was what Tony always said. But every mission, Tony's promises went right out the window.

Clint padded into the kitchen holding up a Star Trek DVD. “Hey, Thor wants to know if you all are interested in having a movie night.”

“I'll be there,” Steve said. “It's probably about time Thor and I saw Star Trek. Bruce has been telling me all about the TV show back in the day.”

Clint inclined his head in Tony's direction. “You coming, too?”

“No, I, uh, I gotta work on the repulsors some more,” Tony said. He snatched a granola bar off the counter and disappeared down the elevator.

Clint frowned. “He spends an awful lot of time working in the lab.”

“You know how he is,” Steve said with a shrug. “He'd rather be with his machines than people.”

“I'm sure he needs to take a break from his work every now and then. And I'm sure he likes sci-fi.”

“I'm not going to order him to watch a movie with us,” Steve said. “You know how well that'll go over.”

“No, I suppose you're right.” Clint shrugged. “It still would have been nice to have the whole team together.”


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, Tony still hadn't come up from the lab and by the end of lunch, Clint had had enough. “I'm going down to check on him,” he announced.

“He's been down there for longer,” Steve said.

“I know. And it's not good for him.”

Natasha nodded into her cup of tea. “Take him a sandwich or something. I don't think he has anything down there besides the coffee maker.”

Steve made a face. “He's a grown man. He shouldn't need us to babysit him.”

“We all have our flaws,” Natasha said serenely. “A grown man shouldn't need help with Youtube either. But it is what it is.”

Clint grabbed a few slices of cheese and lunch meat out of the fridge. He wasn't sure what Tony liked on his sandwich. Tony wasn't in the kitchen often enough. So he just figured he'd grab a little bit of everything and Tony could eat whatever he wanted.

“Wish me luck,” Clint said, as he piled all the sandwich fixings on a tray. 

“Good luck,” Steve said. “Knowing Stark, he'll probably refuse your help on principle. He's as stubborn as they come.”

Clint grinned. “Good thing I can be just as stubborn.”

He took the elevator down and Jarvis opened the doors to the lab before he even had time to type in his access code.

“Welcome, Agent Barton,” Jarvis greeted him. “How considerate of you to bring sir some refreshments. But I'm afraid he is not in a state to entertain visitors at the moment.” 

Tony was asleep at one of the work tables, head down in a pile of metal pipes. It couldn't be a comfortable place to sleep, but Tony was probably too tired to care. So, maybe the sandwich could wait until after he hauled him up to his bedroom.

Clint nudged Tony's shoulder. “Come on, Tony. Time to get out of here.”

Tony jerked upwards and began scrambling at the bits and pieces strewn over the table. “Almost done, almost done,” he said.

Clint pressed his hands down flat against the table. “You need to take a break.”

“Can't. Still working on your new bow.”

“In that case, you can definitely take a break. I don't give a shit how long my bow takes.”

“You'll care if we get called in,” Tony said. “What'll you do if the it's not ready then?”

“Use the one I got now, obviously.”

Tony looked at him skeptically.

“No offense to you, Stark, but I don't need your stuff. I've been sniping for years, making do with crappy-ass SHIELD-issue bows. So, don't get me wrong, I like your bow a lot better. But the last one you made was just fine. It doesn't need an upgrade.”

“Huh,” Tony said. “Never thought about it like that.”

Clint elbowed him. “So give it a rest for the day and take a nap in a real bed. We don't want to risk damaging that trademarked face.”

“Haha, very funny,” Tony muttered. But he made no protests as Clint pushed him towards the elevator.

Once upstairs, Clint walked him back through the kitchen. Natasha looked up from her tea, a slight frown on her face. “Tony, are you getting sick?”

“Nah, he's just asleep on his feet,” Clint said cheerfully. “He's been up for over twenty-four hours now.”

“No need for concern,” Tony mumbled. “I do this all the time.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “And it's finally catching up to you. You look like shit.”

“Thanks a lot. I didn't come up here to get bitched at-”

“Hey,” Steve said sternly. “Don't talk to Natasha that way. Show her some respect.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Steve, please. I'm a grown woman. I can fight my own battles.”

Steve huffed. “Just don't let it happen again.”

Clint gave Natasha a quick salute and marched Tony off in the direction of his bedroom.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony wasn't just tired. He was sick. Natasha could tell the difference instantly. There was a subtle shift in Tony's posture, something off about his expression. She doubted anyone else saw past Tony's obvious exhaustion.

But over the next few days, it became clear to everybody. Well, just about everybody.

On the third day, Tony sat hunched over the kitchen counter, a box of Kleenex next to his tablet as he scrolled through his newsfeed. He sneezed thunderously and reached absently for his third tissue of the morning.

"I really think you should go back to bed," Bruce said, his voice taking on a long-suffering tone. 

"I'm fine," Tony said. "Just a cold."

"It's going to get worse if you don't rest," Bruce said. "You could end up with pneumonia."

At that moment, Steve padded into the kitchen after his early morning run and Bruce looked imploringly at Steve. "Tell Tony he needs to take it easy for awhile."

"No, I don't," Tony said. "I'll be fine."

"If he says he's fine, he's fine," Steve said with a shrug.

Natasha sighed. There was a steadily growing pile of tissues in the trash can. Steve had to be deliberately obtuse.

Tony sneezed again and reached for another Kleenex.

"You're washing your hands, aren't you?" Steve said. "We don't want the whole team getting sick."

Tony gritted his teeth. "No problem," he said. "I'll be in the workshop." He snatched up the Kleenex box and retreated from the room.

"That certainly went well," Bruce said with a sigh.

"He's not that sick," Steve said. "No use keeping him bedridden. He'll go stir crazy. You know how much energy he has."

Natasha rolled her eyes. Somehow Steve had also overlooked the way Tony dragged himself out of bed and flopped down on the couch for several hours a day.

"I'll check up on him later," Bruce said. "He's just going to get worse."

And Bruce was right, of course. By the end of the day, Tony was feverish and almost delirious. Thor had to physically carry him up from the lab and put him to bed. And by then, Tony was too weak to protest.

They brought soup and cold medicine for Tony and Natasha stayed by his side to make sure he finished all of it.

"You don't have to do this," Tony muttered. "I can take care of myself."

"We're a team now," Natasha told him, placing a damp towel on Tony's forehead. "That means we look after each other, whether you like it or not."

Tony smiled faintly and his eyes fluttered shut.


	4. Chapter 4

Tony recovered from his illness with remarkable speed. Bruce was sure it was because Natasha stayed at his side, nursing him back to health. Natasha knew Tony better than all of them. She knew exactly when to be firm and insist that Tony eat another bowl of soup even if he didn't feel like it and when to just sit at his side and stroke his forehead.

Within two days, Tony had gone from feverish and delirious to almost his old self.

Bruce sat at the kitchen counter, smiling into his cup of tea as Tony and Natasha bickered good-naturedly over lunch.

"Soup, soup, soup," Tony said. "What is it with you Russians and soup? Gruel for breakfast and borscht for lunch. Bleagh."

"I had oatmeal with dried cranberries," Natasha said mildly. "I wouldn't call that gruel."

"Fancy gruel, then."

"And still, not a soup. Come now, the only soup you can think of is borscht? We need to broaden your horizons. There's okroshka, botvinya-"

Tony made a strangled sound. "Do you hear that, Bruce? She's trying to kill me with some rotten fish soup."

Natasha arched an eyebrow. "I can arrange a fish soup, if you'd prefer. We Russians do like our fish. As rotten as possible, of course."

"See?" Tony said. "Definitely trying to kill me."

Bruce just chuckled. "If she wanted to kill you, you'd be dead already."

Natasha smirked. "In deference to your limited palate, I'll make beef stroganoff for dinner."

Tony grinned. "My favorite."

"I know. It's in your file."

"Of course it is. Oh, speaking of files, I've been meaning to fix up those nail file daggers of yours. I should really get on that." Tony's eyes were distant, probably already working on the upgrades in his mind. "I'll be down in the lab. Try not to miss me too much."

Natasha smiled. "Have fun. And don't forget about dinner."

"I won't," Tony said with a wave over his shoulder. He halted in the doorway. "Oh, uh, hi, Steve. I was just leaving."

Natasha stiffened, all traces of the smile gone from her face.

Steve took Tony's arm. "Stark, a word." He tugged Tony into the living room.

They were too far away for Bruce to make out the conversation, but from Steve's pointed finger and Tony's slumped shoulders, it didn't look like anything good. Especially since Tony left in the opposite direction of his lab.

"I can't believe him," Natasha said under her breath.

Steve padded into the kitchen and grabbed an apple from the fruit basket. "Hi, guys. It's a great day for-" He trailed off, his brow furrowed as he stared at Natasha. "What's that look for?"

"I think you're being too hard on him," she said.

Steve sighed. "I just told him to stop pulling all-nighters in the lab. He's going to get sick again and then he's going to be of no use to anybody."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "So," she said, "Tony needs to keep healthy for the good of the team."

Steve frowned at her. "Isn't that what I said?"

She shook her head. "You really don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?"

"Never mind. I'm not wasting my breath. See you at dinner, Steve." And Natasha stalked off towards the gym.

Steve blinked, staring after her. "What was that all about?"

"It probably wasn't a good idea to ban Tony from the lab."

"Oh, so you're on his side, too?"

"We're a team, so we should all be on the same side, right?"

That was apparently the wrong thing to say because now Steve was looking at him like he suggested committing treason.

Bruce cleared his throat. "I don't want to get into this with you, Steve. Confrontation is bad for my blood pressure." He patted Steve's shoulder as he passed by. "I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually."

He found Tony sitting in the den, absently flipping through the channels on the flat-screen TV.

"Hey," Bruce said. "I was looking for you down in the lab."

"I'm not supposed to hide away down in the lab anymore," Tony muttered, sinking down further into the couch. "Captain's orders."

"What if I had a project I needed your help with?"

Tony finally tore his glance away from the TV and leveled Bruce with a weary look. "I'm sure good old Cap would be much better with the heavy lifting."

"No, Tony. I don't need manual labor. I need a research assistant. And you're the only one qualified for the job."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Keep talking."

"Remember when we fought Mystery Man last week?"

"The fungus guy, right?"

"Right. I've been trying to isolate the particular strain of fungus he used to paralyze-"

Tony sat up a little straighter. "I could make arrows for Clint out of that stuff."

"Sure," Bruce agreed. "Clint could probably use-"

Tony jumped up from the couch. "No time to waste, Bruce. To the lab!"

Bruce smiled as Tony took his hand and half-dragged him to the elevator.

It was easier working with Tony than Bruce had thought. He had seen Tony in some of his inventing moods, running around the workshop in a flurry of motion. But Tony was remarkably still as he worked through a catalogue of known fungus strains with Jarvis' help. Bruce peered down through a microscope, analyzing a slide of fungus spores.

He felt a surge of pride when Tony pushed his chair back from the desk and announced, "We're probably going to be at this for a while. Let me go grab us some dinner and then we can get right back to it."

It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.


	5. Chapter 5

Thor was sprawled out on the couch in the living room, trying to catch a quick nap after the mission when Tony and Clint wandered in, complaining loudly about how many showers they had taken in order to wash off all the slime.

“I hope we never see another giant slug again,” Clint said. “Fuck those things. I want to get so trashed I forget they exist. Are you with me?”

“No, thank you,” Tony said. “I’d like to think I have better coping mechanisms by now.”

“Come on, Tony. I don’t want to drink alone. It’s pathetic.”

“Right,” Tony said with a wry twist to his mouth. “I would know all about that.”

“No, no, no,” Clint said. “You were drowning your sorrows. That’s completely different.”

Tony raised an eyebrow.

Clint frowned “I just want to have a beer with a friend. Is that too much to ask?”

“Are we?” Tony said, suddenly wide-eyed and blinking rapidly. “I must have missed the memo. I mean, not that I mind that you consider me a friend,” he said hastily. “It’s touching, really. If I had known it was this easy to buy your friendship, I would have-”

“I’m buying,” Clint said gruffly. “The beer, I mean.” He socked Tony’s arm. “We don’t like you for your money, idiot.”

“Uhh,” Tony said. “Thanks, I think?”

Clint rolled his eyes. “You’ll see, Tony. We’ll get a big-ass case of beer to celebrate being rid of the stupid slugs. Goddamn is that ever a thing to celebrate.”

Thor heaved himself up from the couch. “That is a wonderful idea,” he said. “We shall have a celebration that will rival the greatest feasts of my realm.”

“Sorry, big guy,” Tony said. “We don’t do feasts, here.”

“But it is part of your culture to share fine food and drinks with good friends, isn’t it? And that is in the spirit of our great celebrations in Asgard.”

Tony stared at him, a flicker of longing in his eyes that was quickly concealed behind a mask of indifference. Thor ached to see it. Loki had worn the same expression once and Thor had been too consumed with his own exploits to see how unwanted his brother had felt. He vowed that Tony would not be lost to the bitterness and despair that Loki had.

“You guys have fun,” Tony said. “One of us has to be the responsible adult and stay sober. Because you know the villains are going to decide it’s the perfect time to strike.”

“You can refrain from liquor if you wish,” Thor said. “I will not fault this noble sacrifice. But you are still welcome to join us. Clint will cook us a fine dinner on the barbecue.”

The longing sharpened in Tony’s eyes. “You don’t want sober people at your party.”

“Bullshit,” Clint said. “I know Bruce will come, even if he’s just drinking tea. And it’s Steve’s job to stay sober. He can’t get drunk, remember?”

“Oh,” Tony said faintly. “So part of the team will be operational at least.”

“Yeah. Staying sober doesn’t have to be your responsibility. Come on. Have some fun with us for a change,” Clint coaxed.

Tony hesitated. “Just don’t let me get blackout drunk, okay? I’m supposed to train with Cap tomorrow morning.”

“Sure, we won’t let you get too drunk,” Clint said, his eyes sparkling like he meant to do exactly the opposite.

Tony didn’t seem to notice. “Sounds great,” he said. “I’ll tell the others.”

Thor eyed Clint appraisingly as Tony disappeared upstairs. “You mean to disregard our friend’s wishes.”

“I’m not getting him blackout drunk, okay? But he is getting drunk. He hasn’t been drinking in months, you know. It’ll be good for him to have fun for a change, instead of worrying about what Mr. Perfect thinks.”

Thor nodded. “I have seen hard the Captain drives him. His standards are impossibly high.”

“So with all the stress Tony’s been under, he needs a chance to relax and unwind or he’ll just get himself sick again.” Clint lowered his voice. “I happen to know that Steve’s at HQ for the afternoon, filling out reports.”

Thor felt a little sorry for Steve that he would miss out on their party, but then again, Steve didn’t drink anyway, so he wouldn’t be missing much.

 

Thor had forgotten how easily intoxicated his mortal friends were. He had downed an entire twelve pack of beer without feeling any effects at all, but Tony and Clint were red-faced and laughing as they discussed building a robot out of empty beer bottles and even Natasha seemed more relaxed.

Until Steve arrived on the patio anyway.

“What’s going on here?” Steve said. His eyes trailed over the pile of empty beer bottles and then focused on Tony. “I heard you had a drinking problem, Stark, but I didn’t-”

“You are full of so much shit,” Natasha said.

Steve blinked in surprise.

Natasha got up from her seat, swaying just a little as she stepped forward to poke her finger into Steve’s chest. “Cut it out, okay? Give him a break.”

“Natasha, I was only-”

“Nope,” she said resolutely. “You’re not ruining this for everyone by being a jerk.”

“Hell yes,” Clint said fondly. “She’s feisty when she’s drunk.”

Tony elbowed him. “That’s what we should make. A robot Natasha. It can make stern faces and throw soup at people.”

Natasha doubled over laughing and Steve just stood there, blinking in confusion.

“Have a seat,” Thor said. “We drink today in honor of friend Tony.”

Steve remained standing, looking more confused than before. “I don’t remember Tony doing anything worth celebrating.”

“He’s on the team,” Natasha said shrilly. “That’s worth celebrating. And if you can’t see that, you’re not invited to our party.” She crossed her arms over her chest and attempted to look stern as Clint and Tony gushed over how awesome and fearsome she was.

Steve sighed heavily and sank into an empty chair. He picked up a bottle of beer and held it up, a sour expression on his face. “To the team, I guess,” he said as he drained the bottle.


	6. Chapter 6

Tony was always wary when missions went a little too smoothly. If everything got wrapped up quickly and easily, Steve accused him of being sloppy and cutting corners. If Tony celebrated that there had been few casualties and only minor damage, then he wasn’t being respectful of the few people that had lost their lives. And heaven help him if they were done by dinnertime. It was downright selfish of him to try and head home to relax when he could be staying behind to clean up all the damage.

But if it had been a difficult mission, Steve would of course blame him for that, too. There was just no winning with him.

Today’s villain had been neutralized in just under an hour. Tony swallowed down all his jokes about how easy the guy had been and waited quietly for some indication from Steve on how to proceed. There had been no casualties, no property damage. He was cautiously optimistic that Thor could talk Steve into taking the team out to lunch to celebrate. But he wasn’t going to make that suggestion. Steve would only take it the wrong way.

Steve dusted grime off his uniform. “Team, report in. Any injuries?”

Tony popped open his faceplate. “Negative, Captain. I think we’re all fine.”

“Widow?” Steve said, as if he hadn’t heard him. “Any injuries?”

Natasha lounged against a light pole, arms crossed over her chest. “You heard him,” she said.

Steve set his jaw. “I want to hear it from you. Stark can’t see anything more than obvious injuries. If you’ve sprained or broken-”

“I’m fine,” she said. “We’re all fine. Right, Clint?”

“Uh, guys, we’ve got a problem,” Clint said. “A big problem.”

Steve tensed. “Hawkeye, report in.”

“I can see a bomb through the skylight over here. Corner of Eighth and Broadway. And shit, it’s counting down fast.”

“I’ve got this,” Tony said. He snapped his faceplate shut.

“No,” said Natasha. “Nobody’s going in there. It’s too dangerous. Steve, tell him it’s a bad idea.”

“He does have his armor,” Steve said slowly.

And that was all Tony needed to hear. He snapped the faceplate shut and took off into the air.

He tuned out the sound of Natasha’s cursing over the comm. He could do this. He just needed to focus.

Clint jumped out of the way as Tony barreled past him. “Dude, you shouldn’t-”

“No time,” Tony said curtly. He crashed through the skylight and landed hard onto the floor below.

It was an office building of some sort. A few people stood up from their cubicles to stare at him and one or two took out their phones to snap a picture. Not what he needed right now.

“Everybody out!” he shouted. “The place is about to blow.” He herded people towards the exits since most of them seemed too stunned to move.

Now, where was that bomb?

 

Tony woke up in a hospital bed, heavily swathed in bandages and hooked up to an IV.

And Steve was sitting in the chair beside his bed, head bent down as he fiddled with his phone. Oh god, Steve was waiting to chew him out as soon as he woke up. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Okay,” Tony croaked out. “Let’s get this over with.”

Steve’s head snapped up. “You’re awake. You’ll be out of here in no time.”

“Yeah,” Tony said. “Unfortunately.”

Steve frowned. “Don’t talk like that. Why would I want you to stay in the hospital?”

“Because then I wouldn’t be fucking around on the field?” Tony offered.

“You did a good job today,” Steve said.

Tony waited for the but. But it could have been better. But good just isn’t good enough. Or maybe, even worse, but only a good job, considering it was Tony.

But Steve stayed silent, a pained look on his face.

“Oh god,” Tony said. “How many people died?”

“Nobody died.”

“Injuries?”

“None except for yours.”

Tony relaxed back into the bed. “That’s okay, then.”

Steve leaned forward, an earnest look on his face. “Tony, I don’t like it when anybody gets hurt.”

Tony nodded. He had heard it before. Even if there was no property damage, if a single civilian was killed, Steve still considered the mission a failure. “I fucked up our perfect score this time,” he said. “And that building. Fuck, I hope it wasn’t important.”

Steve put a hand over his. “Tony, listen to me-”

“I know,” Tony said. “I should have been faster. Maybe if I had spotted the bomb earlier instead of-”

“Tony,” Steve said sharply.

Tony swallowed and forced himself to meet Steve’s eyes. He expected to see anger, but instead there was hurt and guilt and what did Steve have to feel guilty for? It wasn’t Steve’s fault.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said quietly. “I’ve been pushing you too hard. I almost got you killed today and that’s not-”

“You didn’t do-”

“Yes,” Steve said firmly. “I should have had you stand down.”

“We needed to evacuate the building.”

Steve nodded. “And then you should have evacuated yourself.” He squeezed Tony’s shoulder. “You’re a big part of the team, Tony. What would we do without you?”

Tony swallowed down the lump in his throat. He wasn’t crying, no. He was just, he was just tired. The battle had taken a lot out of him.

Steve smiled tentatively. “I’ll go get the others. They were all worried about you.”

Clint, Natasha, Thor, and Bruce piled into the room, each of them happy to see he was alive and furious with him putting himself in danger in their own special way. Thor would have swept him immediately into a bonecrushing embrace of joy if Bruce and Clint hadn’t held him back. Good old Thor. Tony quirked a smile watching Bruce try to explain the IV to him.

Natasha sank down beside the bed and took Tony’s hand in hers. “Don’t you ever do anything like that again,” she said. “Or I will kill you myself.”

Tony cracked a smile. “Missed me that much?”

Her face contorted and then she lightly socked his shoulder. “Asshole.”

“Missed you guys, too,” Tony said.

“Steve has something to tell you.” She looked meaningfully over at Steve.

“He’s already said his piece.”

“Good.” She smoothed a hand over his forehead. “We’re a team, Tony. Don’t you ever forget that.” She lowered her voice. “And I’ll make sure he never forgets it either.”

And there was the pesky battle fatigue acting up again. Because the warm feeling in his chest had to be some kind of fever. Yep. That was the story he was sticking with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt called for a happy ending so, that's where I ended it. Sorry to disappoint you all, but thanks for sticking with me.


End file.
